Coronavirus: Los Angeles #29

 

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Monday, December 28:

OMG.  I have been hoping for rain since Thanksgiving, and did it finally arrive.  We were awoken a few minutes after midnight to the sound of rain pelting our windows.  Pouring rain, lightning strokes and thunder claps, and gusty heavy winds driving the rain drops against the window panes.  It was the rain that first woke us; after that it would have been the lightning flashes and thunder. The most violent storm I have been in for a least 30 years.

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Nadine and I are very traditional when it comes to reading.  We do not use electronic readers, for either the newspapers or for books.  We prefer to have the paper-and-ink originals in our hands.  Although the word "originals" probably is not appropriate here, since the newspapers seem to often release news articles earlier on their websites than in the print additions.  But you know what I mean. 

We get both the NYTimes and the LATimes delivered each day outside our apartment door, almost always arriving by 7AM.  They used to come wrapped separately, but are now much smaller than "before".  And now both come packaged together, except on Sunday.  Recently we got a Saturday delivery that included not just the newspapers, but also three separate real estate sections: one entitled "Your Crowning Achievement" by Sothebys, one entitled "VIEW"  with a slick cover by Coldwell Banker, and one for a lot of other RE firms.  These three sections, measured in depth of paper, where at least two to three times thicker than the two papers themselves.  But I guess that this advertising helps to fund the publication of the news.

Does anyone remember when Harry Shearer did a weekly Sunday morning "Le Show" from KCRW, Santa Monica, "Home of the Homeless".  One of his opening bits was to read, with a large dose of sarcasm in his voice, the lead article in the LATimes RE section, featuring an expensive local residential listing.  Somehow the descriptions of these very expensive homes seems especially tone deaf to the suffering that many Angelinos are going thru at this time.

What else are the locals up to?  A news article says that plastic surgeons are doing a booming business.  People are seeing a lot of their own faces on Zoom squares...and not liking what they see.  So it's off to get some "work done". 

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Little miracles are all around us: most years in the past, I have planted my winter garden from seedlings of cabbages and chard.  I got the seedlings from a seller at the Hollywood Farmers Market named Peter Lee. This year, for a variety of reasons, I did not get the seedlings from Peter.  Also, I have been delayed because the usual winter rains did not start at Thanksgiving this year, but just now.  I decided to grow seedlings in our apartment, and transplant them later to the garden.  I ordered the seeds from Burpee and got old egg cartons from Nadine, and put the seeds into the soil and watered them.  The chard seeds are the size of a grain of rice, but the cabbage seeds are tiny, the size of a small pepper grain.  Now, just a few days later, up they are coming.

This is the last of my "Coronavirus: Los Angeles" emails for 2020.  What a year!!  Nadine said that for her, January 20th will feel like the start of a new year.  I agree.

The pandemic is not over yet.  Wear your mask and keep your distance for some months more.  Hoping that 2021 and the 46th Presidency of the USA will be happier, healthier, safer and less anxiety provoking for all of us.

Coleman

Coronavirus: Los Angeles. #28

This email has nothing to do with COVID, and only partially with LA.

Today is "Boxing Day" in England and other "British Empire" countries.  Originally a day for gift giving, but now also a big shopping day.  In my last email, I related the chagrin my young sons had when they found out that Scotty Lipman, who lived across the street, got gifts on each of the eight consecutive nights of Chanukah.  So here are two more stories, from the memory of this senior citizen, about holidays, birthdays, and gifts.

Story #1: I was born on Christmas Eve, 1935.  (That's also Anthony Fauci's birthday, but he is younger than I by five years.)  Growing up, I had three aunts, all long gone now.  Often, each would give me one present at this season, and it would be marked "Happy Birthday & Merry Christmas".  Now, I was a bright enough kid, so, immediately, I was thinking that I should be getting two presents each; one for my birthday and another for Christmas.  I am being short-changed, I thought!

Like a lot of slights that faded with the passing years, this has not mattered since I was about 10.  Then, I converted to Judaism about 20 years ago, and no longer celebrate Christmas.  But I guess I'm now too old to benefit from the Chanukah tradition of one-gift-for-eight-nights-in-a-row.  Sad.

Story #2: We recently got reconnected with our former (2007-2012) next-door neighbors, Kim and Patrick.  We moved away, then they moved away, and we lost contact.  We just got an email from them, courtesy another former neighbor, Sean.  This reminded me of this encounter years ago.  Kim and Patrick have two sons, Grant and Cole.  One day when Grant was four, I ran into Grant and Kim on the sidewalk outside our apartments.  The following occurred:

Grant (addressing me): Today is my birthday.  Are you coming to my party?

Me (I had not been invited, so grasping for a response): Sorry, I can't make it, Grant, but I am sure it will be a lot of fun.

Grant: Are you going to give me a present anyway?

At this point, Kim intervened, and told Grant that that was not polite...he should not be asking people  for presents.  Kim then turned to me and apologized for Grant's behavior.  I was having trouble trying to suppress my laughter.  Grant appeared to be momentarily embarrassed, and looked down at the pavement for a second or two.  Then he recovered.

Grant (addressing me):  Well, are you? 

His mother gasped.  I said goodbye, have fun at your party. 

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It rained on Tuesday.  Not much, about 10 minutes, and not a downpour.  But we'll take it.  More in the forecast (50%) for this coming Monday.  I'll believe it when it comes.

Belated Merry Christmas to all.  Stay safe.

Coleman

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We have a lot of dogs in our neighborhood.  And many of them are outfitted with sweaters.  And this is the time when people trod out their Christmas sweaters.  So, this was bound to happen.  Meet the newest of Santa's elves.

 

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #27

 

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I planned to send this email out three days ago, but "life" intervened, in the form of (1)a computer issue the took days to resolve, and (2)a crown on one of my ancient molars that reached the end of its useful life.

Monday, December 7:

Pearl Harbor Day.  Our usual late afternoon walk around the neighborhood.  It definitely feels like there are fewer people out now that the new lockdown rules have been issued.  Many of those who are out are dog walkers.  We stop to chat briefly with one, who has a very cute 3-month old King Charles spaniel; she (the woman) tells us that the wait lists for rescue dogs have gotten very long; now that people are home more, more of them want a dog for company. 

Wednesday, December 9:

Grocery day: Whole Foods, then Trader Joes.  Inane Christmas music at Whole Foods: "Oh, by gosh, by golly, it's time for mistletoe and holly...."  Give me instead the old standbys, please: Silent Night, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Drummer Boy, etc.  

Then there's always that old holiday favorite: The Adam Sandler Chanukah Song (have not yet heard this in Trader Joe's, but you never know)

Thursday, December 10:

Tonight is the first night of Chanukah.  Here is a "first encounters with Judaism" story:  In the summer of 1967, my first wife Leslie and I moved to Eastbluff, a new housing development in Newport Beach, with our boys Phil and Elliott.  It was a great place for kids, with wide but quiet streets, and a lot of young families like ours.  Across the street lived the Lippmans, John and Joan, with their children Barbara and Scotty.  All was well until Chanukah came, and Phil and Elliott found out that Barbara and Scotty would be receiving a gift a night for each of the eight nights of Chanukah.  The boys complained about this injustice for some time.

Friday, December 11:

We are hardly going anywhere these days, so not driving our cars much.  I had not driven my trusty 2004 Honda Civic for several weeks and there are cobwebs on the driver's side rearview mirror.  The Civic has just 700 miles this year, and our CRV has 1,900.  We are taking the cars to the car wash more than to the gas station.

When I tried to start the Civic, the battery had enough juice to respond to the remote command to unlock the doors, but not enough to turn over the engine.  On that occasion, I took our other car, the Honda CRV.  Days later, I called the AutoClub, and the tech arrived in 25 minutes, and we got the engine started.  Then, Nadine and I drove around the city for about 30 minutes to charge up the battery.  That was about 10 days ago.  

A lot of other folks are not using their cars much either.  Since then I have seen the same AutoClub guy back around our building twice, getting other cars started.

That's it for now.  Stay well and wear your masks.  Vaccinations have begun, so help is starting to come.  But we are still faced with a long haul.

Happy Chanukah.  Light some candles against the dark. Still no rain in sight here is Los Angeles.

Coleman

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In my last email, I mentioned my mother's mother, Alice Coleman Lewis, who lived to 95, and my mother Dele who lived to 88.  Here they are, summer at the Jersey shore, circa 1915: my mother, her mother, and her older sister Norma.

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #26

As always: many of us get too many emails already, even before this pandemic.  So, if you would like to be removed from this email list, please feel free to say so.  (No reason needed; and you won’t be the first to do so.)

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Thursday, December 3:

Encouraged by our cousin Natalie, we watched Jake Tapper's 50-minute interview on CNN of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.  What a breath of fresh air to see two rather normal human beings who can talk and answer questions and laugh out loud, without a lot of blaming or pointing of fingers or maligning others.  The normality of it was almost startling after four years of Trump and his lap dog Pence, neither of whom ever laughed out loud that I recall.  America and the world still have many hurdles in front of us, but this felt like an hour of hope that America will soon have competent leaders moving in the right direction.

Friday, December 4:

Now that the first deliveries of COVID vaccines are approaching, much is appearing in the press about what groups will get what priority for the first batches that become available.  One group that I have not heard much about are prisoners (of which there are about 1.3 million) and prison staff.  I believe that these groups should be fairly high up on the list.  They live/work in crowded conditions that are known to have high transmission rates.  Prisoners have very limited abilities to alter their conditions in any meanful way; I can chose to stay home, or go out but with my mask on, or socialize not at all or somewhat.  But prisoners have little choice.  The AMA has come out in favor of putting the prison population high up on the list.  But the governor Polis of Colorado is quoted as saying: "There's no way it is going to go to prisoners before it goes to people who haven't committed any crime".

Saturday, December 5:

At Park La Brea, where Nadine and I have lived for the last 13 years, there is a community garden with about 40 plots.  As there are about 4,000 apartments in Park La Brea, that's about one plot per 100 apartments.  So, demand is high and the waiting time for tenants who want to join is about two years long.  As my contribution to this community activity, I administer the waiting list, and orient new members when a plot becomes available (a former plot holder leaves for whatever reason; often because they move out of Park La Brea.)

So today I went to the garden to initiate a new member, Simone.  Simone, born in Australia, has lived in Park La Brea for three years, and been on the waiting list since December 2018.  She is looking forward to growing veggies.  Part of the orientation includes giving me a check for member dues (a modest $6.00/month).  When I asked her to bring the check to our meeting, she said she would "go to the bank to get a check".

When we met, I asked Simone whether she had to go to the bank because she had run out of checks, or because she does not normally use checks.  She said it's the latter; she normally does not use checks at all, but a payment app like PayPal or Venmo (or in her case Zelle).  This is another one of those "technology generation divides"; Simone is approx two generations younger than I am.  Nadine and I still write about ten checks per month.

And speaking of the garden, when will our annual winter rains start?  My rule of thumb has always been that our SoCal rains start aboutThanksgiving and end about Passover/Easter.  I have cleared out all my summer plants, and am waiting for the first rain, to then plant my winter crops: cabbages, chard and potatoes.  But no rain so far, and none in the 10-day forecast on my iPhone. A friend with some inside knowledge from professional forecasters says it does not look good for this winter!

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #25

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Monday, November 30: 

Only one more month to go in 2020; hang in there, folks

Los Angeles County has begun new public health orders as of today. These new orders will ban all gatherings with people from another household.  People are allowed to leave their homes to walk their dog or take walks with people they live with, buy groceries or pick up drugs, pick up or receive takeout food, travel to the emergency room or urgent care, or for other essential purposes.  These rules last for at least three weeks.

As far as I know, there will not be any active attempt by the police or other authorities to enforce these rules.  (In Paris, Ashley tells us you have to carry papers when you go out, and are subject to a fine of 150 Euros if caught violating the rules there!)Every morning one of the first things I do is to splash cold water on my face to wake up.  Then I dry off and glance in the mirror.  Sometimes what I see surprises me: a new wrinkle? a new spot? a sagging eyelid? etc.  And that's just on my face.  You usually can't see much more of my body, but, trust me, you don't want to; there are much more spots and sagging flesh there.  

I do make an effort to get some exercise every day: walking, walking in the lap pool, etc.  No treadmill or stationery bike at the gym, which is closed for now.  My grandmother, born about 1880, lived to be 95.  Her life as a homemaker, cooking, cleaning, sewing, washing, grocery shopping, and so forth, kept her very healthy.  My mother lived to be 88, and was going strong, living alone and driving, until the very end.  As far as I remember, neither of them ever saw any need to exercise or "work out".  I think I got a lot of my "health" DNA from them.

I'm not complaining about growing old.  So far, it's better than the alternative.  I'll turn 85 later this month, God willing.  This aging seems quite normal.  Over the years I have had a share of health and medical issues.  Recently, my urologist discovered bladder cancer by pure coincidence.  It's early stage T1, and should be very treatable.  I am fortunate that it was found at all, since these cancers usually do not show up on scans, until they have progressed very far.  So I count myself lucky on this one (as well as on my ancestors DNA).

Tuesday, December 1:

In past years, we have almost always seen all of our children and grandchildren at least twice in each year.  So far in 2020, we saw our daughter Ashley and husband Neil Hafer, their daughters Chelsea and Lindsay, and son Phil and wife Tracy at the Hafer's joint 50th birthday party in January.  A big fun party (and what luck on the timing for them).  We saw Danny in San Francisco in January also.  We saw Neil in the summer.  And we see Lindsay occasionally as she is back at UCLA.  But we have not seen any other children or grandchildren at all in 2020, and probably will not in December, based in part on the latest restrictions in LA County.  

So I think my on-going aging may surprise some of our children and grandchildren the next time we see them...whenever that will be.  

On my morning walk, I go thru Farmers Market.  The latest restrictions in LA County are in place until at least December 20.  All outdoor dining tables and chairs have been removed.  It feels so deserted there.  And I fear it may be the final blow for some of the restaurants there, who have struggled on as the pandemic has impacted their businesses. 

Wednesday, December 2:

Weekly grocery shopping morning.  Whole Foods senior hour at 7AM.  More Amazon "shoppers" than seniors, but not crowded except in produce.  No Christmas music yet.  Plenty of TP and paper towels, but no barley.  Only 4 Christmas trees left.  Trader Joe's senior hour at 8AM.  About a dozen shoppers in line when they open.  Music: Christmas songs, but not the oldies I remember.  Home by 9AM.  Speaking of exercise, got in over 3.500 steps on this short expedition.

Ashley and Neil have decided to cancel their planned trip to the States for the holidays.  If they came, their ability to interact with family and friends would be severely limited.  We will miss seeing them, but think it's the right decision on their part.

Stay safe, and wear your masks.

Coleman

Documentary recommendation (sent to us by Dan): "Trial 4" on Netflix.  A young Black man in Boston is convicted of murdering a Boston policeman, and serves over 20 years. A persistent and tough defense attorney.  If you liked "Making A Murderer", you will probably like this one.  8-episodes, about 1 hour each.

Equinox sunrise/sunset, 12th floor hallway, Sept 19, 2020

 Nadine and I live on the top floor of an apartment building that is not exactly a rectangle in floor plan, but each floor does have one main long central hallway. At either end of the hallway, there is a steel fire door to the balcony outside, and each door has a small window in it.

In our building, this hallway is on an east/west axis.  Thus, on the equinoxes (twice per year), at sunrise when the sun rises directly in the east, and again at sunset when the sun sets directly in the west, the rays of the sun stream thru one of these windows, and shine all the way down to the other end of the hallway

Here are two time-lapse videos, made on my iPhone with the Frameography app, that show these occurrences yesterday.  (Today is actually the autumnal equinox, but yesterday was close enough, and both sunrise and sunset were clear, and the smoke in the air is mostly gone).  In each case, the camera starts out at the east end of the hallway, looking towards the door at the west end.   Your will also get very fleeting glimpses of some of our neighbors and their pets.

Each video is about one minute in length, and represents about 80 minutes of elapsed time.  Please excuse the rather crude photography on my part, but I think you will get the picture.

Sunrise, Sept 19, 2020:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFzyVJNJxc4

Sunset, Sept 19, 2020:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CjLAtQZg-nQ

As we struggle with all of our human fears and problems, of which we have so many at this time, the Earth continues to circle around its Sun, and rotates on its tilted axis, giving us these seasons and equinoxes and solstices, unchanging...and unconcerned. 

Coleman 

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #20

It feels like we are settling in for a long haul.  An epidemiologist on the radio says that the vaccine and "return to normal" may be at the end of 2021.  This current mode of existence may have to be endured for another year or more.  Not complaining though: we have it much better off than most Americans, most people around the world.  

Our weekly routines have changed drastically.  I used to have to be out of the apartment by 8AM or earlier four days a week, for volunteering at the SOVA food pantry, or for classes.  Now all of that is gone.  The food pantry branch where I volunteered had very close contact between the clients and the staff and the volunteers.  And most of the volunteers were over 65. So far, it is still closed with no forecast as to when it will open back up.  And I probably will not return there even when it does.  And so, my old Civic, which used to "get out" at least four days a week, is now sitting in its parked space for weeks at a time.  As are many other cars in our neighborhood.  My one remaining Torah study class is now on Zoom, and while it's not the same as in person, it is still a high point in my week.  

One regular weekly event now is grocery shopping.  Thursday mornings.  Senior hours at Whole Foods from 7AM to 8AM.  Old customers moving at a leisurely pace, and young “shoppers” hustling thru the aisles.  All well organized.  Then over to Trader Joes senior hours from 8AM to 9AM. We are home with the weekly load by 9AM.

So many small details of daily life have changed.  Too old to try to change our reading habits, we still get the LATimes and the NYTimes in print editions, delivered to our apartment by 6:30 every morning.  On days where there was a threat of rain (or perhaps on the rare day when it actually did rain), they each used to come in a separate wrapper; blue for the NYTimes, clear for the LATimes.  Now they are so small they come in the same wrapper.

Likewise, our mail deliveries are much smaller than "Before".  Fewer catalogues, fewer of everything in the mail.  And slower.  For our annual license renewal on the CRV, I mailed the form and the check to the DMV on August 20; it was due on September 2.  As of September 16, the DMV has yet to cash the check. Now I am thinking that we will be billed an extra $40 or $50 for submitting our renewal late?  We'll see.

Some things seem frozen in time.  Billboards in our neighborhood are still advertising movies that came out early this year.  Likewise on the marque of the multiplex at the Grove.

Yet, some things in the neighborhood are moving forward, as before.  Particularly construction projects.  A 25-story new residence building on Curson, between 6th and Wilshire is just finishing up.  Another one is going up at Wilshire and La Jolla.  Three new subway stations are in work (and have been for over a year), at Wilshire and La Brea, and at Wilshire and Fairfax, and at Wilshire and La Cienaga.  The demolition of the three original (c. 1960's) LACMA buildings is underway, to make way for a new LACMA that will span across Wilshire Boulevard.  And the new film academy is underway, as they convert the old May Co. building at Wilshire and Fairfax (where my first wife and I bought our first bed frame and mattress).

We miss LACMA.  I am not in a hurry to visit art museums.  My tastes in visual arts are few: photo exhibits, Hockney landscapes, Hopper paintings.  But we so much enjoyed the free weekly concerts at LACMA: chamber music inside on Sunday nights at 6PM, Latin jazz on summer afternoons outside.  We miss these a lot.  Nixed by the double whammy of the construction project and the coronavirus.

Some things are coming back to life, after a coronavirus hibernation.  The county library is back in business, sort of.  No going in and just browsing.  But, you can order books on the website, and when they arrive at your local branch, your get notified and you can pick them up at a table set up in the entry way.  The book is handed to you in a paper bag with your name written on the outside.  For me, this is a blessing.  I have come to love the library and the services it provides.

It strikes me that this pandemic is the first national event in my lifetime that has impacted almost all Americans, regardless on our station in life, since World War II.  I was almost 6 when WWII started, and 9 when it ended.  Sure, there have been many other momentous events since then: Korean War, Vietnam, Watergate, 9/11, the 2008 financial meltdown and recession.  But, honestly, these had little direct impact on my everyday life; I was aware of them, but my life did not change much because of them.  Now it has.

Stay safe and sane.

For our Jewish friends, Shanah Tovah: the New Year starts on Friday night.  

May it bring some hope and security and relief for the future of all peoples everywhere.

Coleman

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #19 : Reflections on Elections

As always: many of us get too many emails already, even before this pandemic.  So, if you would like these to stop, please feel free to say so.  (No reason needed; and you won’t be the first or second or third to do so.)

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Election night, 2000: 

I was driving home from work, about 6PM CA time, listening to the returns on NPR.  The announcer said it appeared that Gore had won Florida.  From what I had heard up to that time, that meant that Gore would most likely be the next president. I felt relief and optimistic.

I arrived home about 20 minutes later, and we turned on the returns, probably on PBS.  Shortly, they announced that their call of "Florida for Gore" was being rescinded; that it appeared much closer than before.  Thus began weeks of agonizing over the election results, the courts, the lawyers, and deploring our constitutional vestige called the Electoral College.  Aided by the US Supreme Court, W became the next president.

Fast forward 16 years. If the next anecdote sounds familiar, it's because I have told it before.  

Election night, 2016:  

Nadine and I invited two other couples to come down to our apartment to watch the election returns.  Of course, we all expected Hilary to win.  One of the men has done a lot of political work in the past, and was quite familiar with things election, including the Electoral College.  As the night wore on, and the returns looked less promising, at one point he announced: "Well, that's it.  Trump will be the next president." He understood before the rest of us, and before it was "called" on the TV station, that Trump had enough electoral college votes.  I was stunned.  We all were.  The impossible had happened.  

Recently, Rabbi Lebovitz was teaching about the miracles reportedly performed by the prophet Elisha.  He said one definition of a miracle might be when something very good, that was previously thought to be impossible, actually happens.  What do you call it when something very bad, that was previously thought to be impossible, actually happens?  An "unmiracle"? A trauma?

After the shock phase, before the inauguration, pundits consoled us that Trump's ignorance and narcissism would be "contained" by Republican wise men (and by his daughter Ivanka) and our country would survive.  I wanted to believe this, and to a certain extent bought it.

Election RunUp, 2020: 

Now, after these two recent elections where the “winner” did not get the most popular votes.  Now, after almost four years, we fully understand how traumatic this event was. Impossibly bad things can happen.  Polls can be misleading.  "Wise men" and family members have done little to contain Trump.  Sean Hannity has his ear.

And this.  Bad as Trump is, he is not the worst of it.  How could it be that so many Americans came to vote for an obvious con man, and many will do so again, knowing much better now what and who he is?  This is very discouraging to me.

I have no confidence about the integrity of the upcoming election, based also on the dirty tricks already happening: USPS services being downgraded, voting places being limited, Russian social media meddling, etc.

For most of you, I know I am preaching to the choir, but: Especially if you did not vote in the past, whatever your reasons were then.  Please register and vote. But especially if you are young, poor, or non-white; our politicians need to hear from you.  (Thought about including women in this list, but have read that voting participation is higher among women than among men in this country).

Thanks for reading.

Stay safe and masked up and sane.  The next two months may be worse than the last six months…or the last four years.

Coleman

and now, for a little humor on YouTube, “Vote Him Away":

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkU1ob_lHCw

Coronavirus: LA #18

As always: many of us get too many emails already, even before this pandemic.  

So, if you would like these to stop, please feel free to say so.  (You won’t be the first or second or third to do so.)

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Los Angeles is experiencing a record heat wave.  The radio said it's the worst heat wave in the last 10 to 20 years.  Of course, we should expect it to be hot. After all, this is southern California in August, so what else but hot weather?  Still, this seems unusual.  But consistent from day to day...see the screenshot below from my iPhone on Tuesday, August 18.

The heat saps me of energy. Some days, I don't feel like doing anything at all.  One day recently, took two naps.  We try to take two walks a day, one early in the morning, and one late in the afternoon, when if we choose our route carefully, we can walk mostly in the shade of buildings.  The sycamore trees, of which there are many in Park La Brea, are struggling, many leaves already shriveled and falling to the ground

We have had our two room air conditioners on thru much of the daytime.  Since we only have three rooms (not counting baths), we are fairly well covered.  Still, the A/Cs are struggling to keep up (or should I say keep down).   The background hum of all the A/Cs in our building is continuous.  California has recently experienced rolling blackouts, due to lack of sufficient electric energy; per usual, authorities are pointing fingers at each other regarding who is to blame.  No blackouts yet where we live.

Thank goodness, our pool reopened about a month ago. (The gym reopened also, but was then closed down again two weeks later.  Even if the gym reopens, I won't be going anytime in the foreseeable future; it's an indoor space.)  I can walk "laps" in the lap pool, where the water is up to my armpits, and still keep my mask on.  Limited one person per each of the five lanes.  Water feels great.  I have been doing this exercise for about eight years now.  At first, it seemed boring and I was counting the laps until I could stop; but now it has become a meditative interlude in my day.

I recently have been going to the pool just before 3PM.  The pool is closed from 2 to 3 for cleaning.  So, just before 3, there is a small group waiting to get in.   Going at this time, I can be sure of getting a lane.  At other times of the day, all lanes may be in use, which means a wait, usually just a few minutes.

There is a regular group of  swimmers that show up after 3PM on many days.  One is M, an older lady who really likes men; says she adored her father.  The yenta of the pool, she schmoozes up everyone, but especially the guys, and sometimes dishes the dirt.  When I chatted with M in the next lane a few days ago (masks on), I realized that, aside from Nadine, she was the only other person I had actually spoken with that day.

A dragonfly is usually there every afternoon, flitting above the surface of the pool, mostly at the west end, which is somewhat in shadows after 3PM.  Recently, one was a beautiful reddish-orange irridescent color, circling and circling over the water. 

There are other species at the pool as well, specifically canines.  Saw my second one there days ago.  This is not surprising in LA. Dogs are everywhere: grocery store, restaurants, movies theaters (when they were open), offices, Nordstroms, Pete's Coffee, our (former) synagogue, etc.  

Saturday, at breakfast outside of Toast, a woman showed up with her great Dane, and proceeded to drag a large mattress out of her BMW and put it on the sidewalk, where the dog dutifully laid down while she ate.  All of this done while keeping 6 feet of separation between parties, temp checks before seating, and masks up when the server approaches.

Finally, with the heat, fireseason has come again to California.  This is now a regular annual event.  No current danger where Nadine and I live, in the city.  But many fierce fires in the state, with a big cluster up north where an unusual outbreak of lightning storms triggered many fires.  We have relatives and friends up there.  Some have had to pack up the car, and be prepared to leave home.  Others have had to evacuate, and now await to hear whether their home has survived.

That’s it for now.

Stay as safe and sane and cool as you can.

Coleman

LA 10-day weather forecast, August 18

August 21 satellite photo of smoke plumes in No Calif, from our son Phil:

Coronavirus: LA #17:Final Cut

 As always: many of us get too many emails already, even before this pandemic.  

So, if you would like these to stop, please feel free to say so.  (You won’t be the first to do so.)

————————————————————————————————————————

First, apologies to my readers.  The edition #17 that I sent out on August 17 was my mistake.  My trigger index finger on the mouse hit “Send” instead of “Save”.

And thanks to those who pointed out some arithmetic issues, which I hope are corrected below.

My last email of this series was in the middle of June.  After that, I seemed to run out of energy and inspiration, and so just stopped.

Now I am back.  Can’t guarantee for how long.  But here goes.

In late June, Nadine and I decided to move. When we first discussed the possibility, I was very negative: “Do you know how HARD that will be?”

“Yes” she said, “it will be hard, but we’ll get thru it and it will be over”.

It was MUCH harder than either of us thought it would be.  The last time we moved, in 2012, I was 76.  Now I am 84, and found out I am not the same man as eight years ago.

Later, I was informed, by my LCSW wife and others, that “moving" ranks right up there with other major causes of trauma, including death of family member, divorce, physical pain, natural disasters (think pandemic), and parental abandonment.  I can’t say our move ranked up with any of these, but it was difficult.  But  it’s over and we are back to our “normal” COVID life.

So, you might be asking, why did you guys do it?

Because of the slowdown in the economy, apartment rental rates in this part of LA have declined significantly.  But to get a lower rate, we had to opt out of our old lease, and move to another apartment in Park La Brea.

We are now enjoying a lower rent, and a much quieter environment, especially at night after dinner time, when it’s TV or bedtime for us.  Also, a different view; our old place was on the 3rd floor, at tree-top level.  Our new location is on the 12th floor, looking southwest.

But the move essentially wiped out about six weeks of any other activity in our lives.  

With no garage, by the day we moved, you could hardly find a space to sit down or walk around in our apartment, it was so full of packed boxes with most of our belongings.

Another feature of moving is that it forces you to go thru all your “stuff” and decide what to take with you, and what to get rid of.  This is both physically and psychologically taxing.  And many trips to the Goodwill donation center, after we found one in Hollywood that was open.  At least someone may benefit from our no-longer-wanted items.

One of the things on my chest of drawers is a round box where I put my loose change at the end of each day.  I had put all of the contents into a bag to take to the coin counter machine at CVS.  I estimate from prior experience that it was worth perhaps $30.  I put this bag into the trunk of my car, waiting for the day I would go to CVS for something else also.  But, I think it ended up going with one of the donation piles to Goodwill, so hopefully someone in need got a nice bonus when they opened the bag.  Change is definitely in short supply; went to GroundWorks this AM for coffees, and the 75 cents of change was all in dimes and nickels.

Stay safe, wear your mask, keep your distance….and your sanity (which may be harder to hold onto).

Coleman

Typically, Nadine will buy a bunch of flowers each week for our dining room table.  We noticed that last week’s bouquet lasted quite well, and is sucking up water like crazy.  The word “bouquet" triggered this old song in my old mind (Eddy Arnold, 1948). Hope you like it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qECR90Qpa8

Isn’t it funny how these old melodies and words are still back in there somewhere, just waiting for the right trigger to pop up.

Football and Religion at Nichols

Recently, I saw a YouTube interview with an ex-NFL player who talked about the roll of religion in the locker room, both in college and in professional football.  This triggered my memory of the following episode.

I was raised with little religious training or practice.  My mother was a sometimes, any-denomination-will-do Protestant.  My father, the result of a Catholic/Protestant union, was opposed to any and all organized religion.

I entered Nichols School,  a small private boys high school, in Buffalo NY, in the fall of 1951 as a sophomore.  There were then about fifty boys in each class.  Almost all students were required to participate in sports in the afternoon, after classes.

I had played football before in junior high, but was not especially fond of it.  I think my father expected it of me.  I was not particularly interested in the violence, and was somewhat scared of being hurt.  (At Nichols in those days, in the fall, the other option was soccer, which I had never even seen before.)    But I went along with the school's program (and my parents' investment in my getting a good college-prep education. )   I was a stout (or "chubby") kid, and not very fast, so I was assigned to guard position.  In those days, the starters played both offense and defense.

My sophomore year the head coach was Mr Muha.  For my junior and senior years, it was George Stevens, the Princeton quarterback teamed with All-American Dick Kazmeier.

Before each game, the team would gather in a tight group, all hands towards the center.  It seems the more religious kids (or was it just the Catholics?) would recite a prayer, the ending of which is, I now think,  "....pray for us now....and at the hour of our death." 

But what I heard at the start of my first varsity game, as a new boy and in  my first few weeks at Nichols, was "Pray for us now at the hour of our death".  My reaction was "Oh my God, these guys are taking this way too seriously!"

Email re Racism in America

This email has NOTHING to do with coronavirus. 

It DOES have to do with the current furor and commentary about racism in the United States.

First, I/we have come across two items that shed some illumination on the subject for me.

One is the book “White Fragility; Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism” by Robin DiAngelo.  It’s #2 this week on the NYTimes Best Sellers NonFiction list, which notes “Historical and cultural analysis on what causes defensive moves by white people and how this inhibits cross-cultural dialogue”. The author is white, and she gives myriad examples of how white Americans are often unconscious of the culture of racism that surrounds us. The book is also available in audio format, 6 hours long.  I recommend it.

The other is a podcast by Sam Harris, "Making Sense with Sam Harris #207 - Can We Pull Back From The Brink? (June 12, 2020)".  Our son Dan is the one who put us onto this podcast, which is almost two hours long, but worth it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmgxtcbc4iU

Nadine and I had the pleasure of seeing Sam Harris debate David Wolpe many years ago re god and religion. Both very knowledgeable thinkers, it was like watching a great tennis match.  In the podcast, Harris delves into many facets of the situation with facts and opinions that may startle you (meant to, he says).

I don’t agree with all of the statements and conclusions of these two persons (DiAngelo, Harris), but I found them both interesting, and certainly worthwhile grist for thought about racism in our country and what we can do about it.

Lastly, I have been thinking about what I could do to contribute in a positive way to this situation.  I found a website called “Black Votes Matter”

https://www.blackvotersmatterfund.org

The purpose of this fund is to encourage more black citizens to vote.  And you can even pick the state where you want your donation to be put to work.  I debated Georgia vs Florida, but finally picked Florida, because of what happened there in the 2000 election (abetted by SCOTUS)

and this seemed to fit the bill for me. Support black Americans now, encourage more voters in general, and maybe swing Florida, which has been on the brink for decades, blue.

I have very mixed feelings about America's current situation, and our future:

On the pessimistic side, I believe that cultural patterns are very slow to change, and racism against many groups, but especially native Americans and black Americans has an old and deep 400+ year history here.

On the positive side, when I see some many Americans demonstrating in an on-going way, and so many young people (even teens) and including so many that are white, I feel hopeful.

Coleman "

On Aging and Retirement

(Response to Peter Imber's latest homemade cartoon)

Not sure why, but many of your homemade cartoons (and really your commentaries following) trigger a response from me.  And while I knew that you were younger than me, the difference is not as much as I had guessed.

I was forced into retirement at age 74, in 2010.  I did enjoy the work I was doing, for which I got a good deal of acknowledgement, and had no driving urge to do anything else, and was somewhat concerned about “out-living” my retirement investments/pension/social security, and so I was reluctant to retire.

Then I had a serious bout of Menieres disease (intense spells of dizziness and nausea), which made it impossible to continue working.  I was very lucky; the aerospace company I was working for had a downturn, and offered all employees of 65 a pretty fat special retirement package, so I grabbed it.

With not much planning for what to do next, over the next year I became depressed.  I ultimately went on an anti-depressant (still on it), and joined a men’s support group, and got some volunteer work going, and things began to turn around.  And since then, retirement has been overall an enjoyable time.  And now, with COVID, I am even more relaxed with less to do (though feeling a little antsy at times).

And I totally agree with you, with the “why stop?” comment.  I too have made this to a couple of friends when they brought up the subject of retirement.

Loved your reminiscence about using the radiators at Dartmouth to warm up your Bubbie’s knishes.

And yes, sometimes my body feels like I’m 90+, and sometimes my head feels like I’m 19.

Keep the cartoons coming.

On Compassion In My Life

(from an email to a mediation teacher)

I have wondered for some time, what is the difference between lovingkindness vs compassion, so today’s class was of special interest to me.  Here are some of the thoughts I had.

LovingKindness:

You suggested that we might try extending love and friendship to one of the other persons in the virtual class, all of whom I do not know, except for you.  I find this very hard to do, to extend love or friendship to someone I don’t know. I am, at least in some ways, a rather guarded person.  What if I extend love or friendship to someone I don’t know, and they want to reciprocate that, and then I find out later that I don’t really find them very interesting or lovable, and/or they are very needy?  I just don’t want to take that chance.  Because then, if I were totally honest with them, which I probably would not be, I would have to tell them that I find them dull or bigoted or needy or sad or negative or….fill in the blanks.  There’s probably more to this than what I have just written, but that’s what I am getting right now today.

Compassion:

I found this much easier to dwell in, perhaps due to this experience I had about 40 years ago.  My then wife, named Leslie, had cajoled me into getting into therapy, at first couples therapy, which later migrated to a therapy group (where I later met Nadine, and obviously, the couples therapy did not save that first marriage.)  I was very leery of therapy at first; telling my most innermost thoughts and feelings to a total stranger? or strangers?  

For the first few weeks in group, I was basically silent, listening to others, but not venturing out of myself.  One of the people in the group was a younger woman named Sue Haden.  It turned out, her brother was Pat Haden, who had been a star quarterback at USC, and then went on to play for the Rams.  Sue related that she had been to a Rams game in the Coliseum, and the Rams as a whole and Pat in particular were having a bad afternoon.  The fans around her began riding her brother, with shouts like “get him out of there”!  She knew her brother was trying his best, and she was very shocked and hurt by the anger that she saw being directed at him by these people around her.  As Sue was relating this story, I began to silently tear up, as I felt a lot of compassion for the situation she described.  The therapist noticed what was happening with me, and asked me how I was feeling.  I was able to open up for the first time in that group, and for the first time in a long time in my life, and say how sad I felt for Sue as she told her story.  From then on, thankfully, I was more open about my feelings in the group, and eventually with others in my life. 

As you and we dwelt on compassion today, I did feel some warmth in my body, though I still usually find it hard to experience most feelings much in my body; they are mostly in my head.

Old-Time Baseball Radio Broadcasts (a la late 1940's)

(From an email to a friend)

I am sending you a recently published book by my friend Don Zminda, about Harry Carey.  Book should arrive next week. Don was born in Chicago, and worked for about 20 years for STATs, a sports statistics company. He is now working on a book about the Black Sox scandal.

On page 22 of the book, he describes a scene right out of my childhood memory.  I'm guessing you are about half-a-generation younger than I am, so I don’t know if you experienced this in person.

In the summers in Philly, after my dad came back from WWII, on Sunday afternoons we would wash the car, a Pontiac sedan (he was a GM man), in the driveway, right next to the house. He would place a radio in the dining room window, and we would listen to the Phillies game be announced on the radio.  If the game was local, of course the announcer would be watching and broadcasting live from Shibe Park.

But if the game was out of town, the announcer would be reading an on-going teletype stream from the other city (only Eastern and MidWest time zones in those days).  He would then add his own color and patter to make it seem that he was seeing the game in person.  As his voice went into the mic, the mic was also picking up the noise of the teletype in the background.  Even over his voice, you could very distinctly hear the teletype clack-click-clack in the background.

When I read this part of Don’s book, these memories of those late 40’s Sunday summer afternoons returned.

Hope you enjoy the book.  I am still enjoying your history lessons.

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #14

Friday, May 8: We went to CVS to see if they had disinfectant wipes.  The shelves were empty.  We asked a clerk, and she said they would be getting more on Saturday morning (the next day), come early.  

So, Saturday, we joined the line outside CVS at about 6:45AM; they open at 7:00.  In fact, there were two lines, one for the older folks (like us) and one for everyone else.  At 7AM, the doors open, and the old folks get to enter first.  We go to the back of the store, where the cleaning items are shelved, and the shelf is empty.  Nadine asks a clerk, and is told, yes, they did get some this morning, but they are only sold one to a customer, and you have to ask for them at the checkout counter. So, we go to the checkout line in the front of the store, where we are now third in line, but several other customers have already checked out.  When it is our turn, we ask for the wipes, and that clerk tells us that the supply that came in that morning has already sold out; they only got one box today; come back on Tuesday morning, when they will get their next shipment.  Going back this coming Saturday, older but wiser.

Saturday, May 16: We are first in line at CVS, at 6:45.  Doors open at 7AM.  We rush to be first in line at the checkout counter.  “Any alcohol or sanitary wipes?” we ask.  “None came in today” is the reply.

On a morning walk, I heard the distinctive sound of a woodpecker.  Rap-rap-rap-rap-rap.  I was not aware that there were woodpeckers in Los Angeles.  The LATimes has an article about how more birds are returning to LA because of the reduced pollution, congestion and noise.

Another morning walk, thru a quiet residential neighborhood, south of Wilshire.  The jacarandas and bouganvillas are in colorful bloom, all red and purple.  So are the mock orange and jasmine, filling the air with exotic fragrances.  And the songbirds are out in full throat.

I love our local LACounty library, the Fairfax branch (though it is on Gardner St).  But of course it has been closed for weeks now; I can’t even return the three books I had checked out earlier.  So I checked out a couple of audio books, which came to my iPhone.  But I tend to fall asleep when listening to them.  Have never read an e-book, and really miss the real thing.  So, I decide to buy some used books on Amazon, and the first one has arrived: “Twilight of the American Century” by Andrew Bachevich. ex-military and retired rom the faculty at BU; so far, very interesting.

Here at Park La Brea, there is a small cafe, Curson Cafe, in the large park area behind our building.  It closed about 6 weeks ago, but has now reopened...for takeout.  The owner, Jessica, is Korean-American, and the crew are all Hispanic, as is true in many restaurants in our area.  I am glad for us that it is open again, and especially glad for all of them that they have their livelihoods back, at least at some level.

More Zoom classes with the faux backgrounds.  The latest: aurora borealis.

In front of our building is a circular driveway, with a small circle in the middle.  Populated with five tall palms trees.  I see several small squirrels venturing out high up in one of the palms.  I suspect they are infants, and their nest is ‘way up in the tree somewhere.

Starting to have a different mood lately.  The “rush” of our new mode of existence is over; all the changes have settled in, such as remembering wear our masks when we go out, how to order groceries on-line, how to join a Zoom meeting, how to set up a Zoom meeting, where to buy TP and masks, and at home activities that replace some that used to require travel, like meditation sessions and Torah classes and yoga classes.  Much of this is now our new routine.

This routine has fewer outings and events in it.  We are both meditating, almost daily.  My blood pressure, for which I have been on meds for about eleven years, has recently come down from a typical 140/90 to a new typical of 120/80!!

Sunday, May 17: Nadine and I watched about the first hour of “Becoming", the documentary about Michelle Obama.  

My overall feeling after watching it was sadness.  Once we had a President and First Lady who were articulate, and had grace, intelligence, wisdom, warmth, and a sense of humor.

Not that Obama did not make some mistakes; I feel he did.

But now, what do we have: Trump and Melania….such a sad next episode in our presidential succession.

From our friend Michael: Weather forecast for tomorrow: ROOM TEMPERATURE.  

Today we got a real rain in the morning. Water running down the gutters.

That’s it for now.
Stay safe, wash your hands, keep your distance, be kind to one another, and call your mother (if possible).
Coleman 

GALLERY:

From my brother Stan, a tribute to Bob Dylan and the coronavirus (3 minutes long on YouTube):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErFN7Y7qnLg&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR0gjgzKsYej70klB092Pi1DcqDC4shKW7-j-U81W8thAfR_TeB7Hz2BUlY

From our cousin Marc in Glasgow:

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #13

Re: Keeping our current situation in perspective, this from my ex-coworker at Rocketdyne, John Griffith, now in North Carolina:

"Imagine you were born in 1900. On your 14th birthday, World War I starts, and ends on your 18th birthday. 22 million people perish in that war. 

Later in that year, a Spanish Flu epidemic hits the planet and runs until your 20th birthday. 50 million people die from it in those two years. 

On your 29th birthday, the Great Depression begins. Unemployment hits 25%, the World GDP drops 27%.  That runs until you are 33. The country nearly collapses along with the world economy.  

When you turn 39, World War II starts. You aren’t even over the hill yet. And don’t try to catch your breath. On your 41st birthday, the United States is fully pulled into WWII. Between your 39th and 45th birthday, 75 million people perish in the war.  

At 50, the Korean War starts. 5 million perish.  

At 55, the Vietnam War begins and doesn’t end for 20 years. 4 million people perish in that conflict.   

On your 62nd birthday you have the Cuban Missile Crisis, a tipping point in the Cold War. Life on our planet, as we know it, could have ended. Great leaders prevented that from happening. 

When you turn 75, the Vietnam War finally ends."

My father was born in 1909, and my mother is 1912.  Nadine parents in 1912 and 1914.  They did experience most of this history.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It occurs to me that we (our species) have entered into a giant, if unplanned, public health experiment.  Various countries, states, counties and cities have set up, and are now taking down, various restrictions on their populaces.  It’s not ideal, in that there is no “control group”.  But I imagine in the future, statisticians and epidemiologists will have a field day analyzing what factors led to successes and to disasters as this experiment unfolds.

Personally, Nadine and I both lean toward caution in terms of venturing out into the public space.  But we have not lost jobs or income as a result of the shutdown.  We don’t have children sitting at home bored to death.  Our groceries are delivered to our front door.  So it’s a no-brainer for us.

It’s true that most Americans (and most humans) either are impacted by the epidemic, or will be, to one degree or another.  And that gives some feeling of solidarity to us all.  But it’s also true that the burdens are very unevenly spread out.  I read a piece in the NYTimes recently by an ER doctor, who is having to consider how forthcoming to be with critically-ill patients about their prospects for survival, and for life after intubation.  And he is dealing on the phone or video with family members who may have to give consent to decisions.  So much burden falling on such a small slice of our society.  Following is a link to this article:
https://www.nytimes.com/2020/05/04/opinion/coronavirus-doctors-do-not-resuscitate.html?searchResultPosition=1

Nadine and I are meditating more than ever before, almost every day.  Our son Matt told us about HeadSpace, a mindfulness app he uses.  We decide to try it.  We are about half-way thru the 3rd introductory session, but we forgot to put the landline phone outside of the room, and it  rings.  It’s Matt.  Formerly, I would have been annoyed, both that we forgot to put the phone outside of the room, and that Nadine decides to take Matt's call.  But I am not.  They finish their call, and then we return to the meditation session.  I think the meditation is working!

Tuesday: it’s 90 degrees in the late afternoon and the sun is still fairly high in the sky.  We take our second walk of the day.  I remember the hot and muggy days of summer in Philadelphia.  My father would come home, and fill the one bathtub with cold water and submerge himself to cool off.  I decide to try this when we get home.  Somewhat of a shock to my system, but it did cool me off.  (I never saw a private swimming pool until later, when I was 17 years old, in Buffalo NY)

Nadine and I are using some of the “spare time” we now have to work on family history and geneaology.  We have both submitted saliva samples to 23AndMe, and gotten back results.  So far, 23AndMe has identiified many 2nd, 3rd and 4th cousins for Nadine, fewer for me. 
In one case, Nadine has been linked with a cousin who, it turns out, has found out from 23AndMe that the father who raised her was not her biological father.  Her mother and father are both gone, so there is no one to ask about this discovery, to process it with.  I have heard on good authority that this happens to about 2% of all the persons who use these genetic services.
Our son Phil has been scanning hundreds of old family photos and making the digital copies available to his parents and his siblings.  In part, this is what has triggered the renewed interest in family history.  In talking with him recently, it came out that my mother, Dele, who did a lot of family history tracing, sent Phil’s wife Tracy some of her work about 20 years ago.  Tracy has found this material, and Phil has now scanned it also.  Lots of stuff to work on in our “spare time”.

On our afternoon walk, down a still somewhat de-populated Wilshire Blvd, it appears that both pedestrian and auto traffic are returning, and more folks not wearing masks in public.  The buses are still running but with just a few passengers.

Thursday: Rabbi Lebovitz’ Torah study class on Zoom.  Class members tailor their "backgrounds" on Zoom: green meadows with a rainbow arching in the blue sky; surf on the beach with palm trees swaying in the breeze; the sanctuary of the old Portuguese shul in Amsterdam.  Our “background" is our den with OfficeDepot storage boxes in the corner.  Class members caught yawning. The rabbi has not had a haircut in many weeks, says that with plenty of gel, he soon will look like Pat Reilly.

That’s it for now.
Stay safe, wash your hands, keep your distance, be kind to one another
And call your mother (if possible)….Mother’s  Day (US) is Sunday.
Coleman 

PHOTO GALLERY:
Regular gasoline under $3.00?  I can not remember when this last occurred in Los Angeles.  That’s the good news.
The bad news: we don’t need any right now

More local homegrown art in support to those persons who are keeping the wheels on our economy and our health care rolling:

The jacarandas in bloom in the park behind our building:

Outdoor gyms spring up in PanPacific Park:

From my brother Stan, in New Hampshire, words of encouragement for our future:

From Peter Imber in Maine: Trump's nostalgia for “the good old days”,:

And finally, who nu that Nuestro Presidente habla Espanol?

Standard Computer, 1966-1967

In about May of 1966, I left IBM and went to work for a computer startup called Standard Computer.  They started out in Phoenix, because the tech guys involved had worked for GE there, and were into designing mainframe computers for GE that would, in addition to other things, emulated IBM computers.  I spent the summer of 1966 in Phoenix for about 2 months.  Hotter than hell.

The money guys were from IBM and SoCalif.  The guy who recruited me to Standard was Fred Howden, who had also hired me at IBM in 1962.  So at the end of that summer, they relocated the computer to a facility in Santa Ana (OC). For about the next 10 months or so, I car pooled from Pasadena each day with 2 or 3 other guys who went to work for Standard.  That’s why I was getting home each night very late during that time.

Then in about June or July of 1967, Leslie and I bought the house in Newport Beach, and we moved.  We did not sell the Pasadena house right away.  We rented it to a couple on a rent-with-option-to-buy, and they did buy it about a year later.

Coronavirus: Los Angeles #12

I know.  Some of you were worried: “Haven’t heard from Coleman for a while.  Hope he’s OK."

More of you were not even aware that you had not heard from me for over a week.

And the rest of you thought: “Thank God the old geezer finally stopped putting out those emails”.

As always: many of us get too many emails already, even before this pandemic.  

So, if you would like these to stop, please feel free to say so.  (You won’t be the first to do so.)

From Rick in The Valley, re Gates, Buffet and Bezos:

"Both Bill Gates and Warren Buffet have committed to give away their accumulated wealth. I find it amusing that both are having trouble with this goal as they are accumulating wealth faster that they can give it away.  Both men are "mensches" and represent what is best in America.  I am not sure about Bezos and his plans tor distributing his accumulated wealth.” 

(What a problem to have!!)

Wednesday, April 22:

About a week ago, the NYTimes ran an article about if and how the Democratic party could win votes for Biden from those who supported Sanders, especially the younger voters.  I wrote a letter to the Times, and it was included in the Letters section in today’s print edition.   I don’t have a bucket list, but if I did, getting a letter accepted by the NYTimes would be on it.  Also this week, our granddaughter Chelsea, who is practicing social separation in Park City UT, got her letter to the editor of the Salt Lake City Tribune published there.  See both under photos below.

Morning walk.  The jacaranda trees in the park area behind our building are just starting to bud.  Two months to go until the longest day of the year, but the sun is already high up in the sky.  After the rain of only a couple of weeks ago, the daytime temperatures are forecast to be in the 80’s for the next nine days.

On the PBS NewsHour, they interview a psychologist.  In response to a question about trouble sleeping, she recommends at least 20 minutes per day of exposure to the sun.  Apparently this helps to regulate the body’s daily melatonin cycle, and improve sleeping.

Thursday, April 23:

7AM: sipping a cup of tea, looking out our front-room window, which faces southwest.  The sun is still low, and casts the shadow of the street lamp onto the building across the street.  In ten minutes, literally one car drove by.  A jogger goes by, and several dog walkers are out early; when we first moved to Park La Brea (2007), dogs  were only allowed in a few buildings; now they are everywhere.

David and Daniel, our trash guys, show up in their golf cart.  Their job is to bring the trash bins up from the basement to the street level. They use the golf cart to tow the bins up the ramp.  Then they proceed on to take care of the other 17 towers in Park La Brea.  In an hour,  the trash truck will come and lift the bins up over its head.  Later David and Daniel will come back, and return the bins to the basement; every week day come rain or shine; on Saturday, it’s another man, and no trash on Sunday.  Rather regularly, the noisy trash truck shows up just in the middle of our Mondays and Fridays Zoom meditation class.

Also out early, maintenance workers and their trucks.  Park La Brea was built in the late1940’s, right after WWII.  The buildings are about 75 years old, and thus in a constant state of needing upkeep.  If you have ever owned an old house, you understand this issue.

Friday, April 24:

Weather forecast for today about 90.  First time we have turned on the A/C this year.

Our meditation leader, Lesley, reads a poem by a woman, living alone, who finds an ant that has snuck into her place riding on her morning paper.  Her only contact with another living animal

On Wednesday, I brought home from my small community garden plot the weekly harvest of chard.  Chard is very prolific and easy to grow.  In the chard leaves soaking in the kitchen sink I see a ladybug.  As delicately as possible, I lift her up and let her loose outside on the window sill.  Starts walking around, and then flies away.

Should we plan another Zoom with our daughter Ashley in Paris?  I text her that we want to wait a few days; she replies that she is taking a “Zoom break” for a week.  I fully understand; it’s a great tool to have in these times, but also seems to require a lot of focused energy that can be draining.

Sunday, April 26:

We walk by John and Eileen’s place.  They have a lovely sign in their window sending good wishes for Ramadan to all their Muslim friends, neighbors, co-workers, and students.  (Photo below)

Monday, April 27:

In an earlier letter, I complained that our check from the USTreasury did not include Our Dear Leader's signature, since it was a direct deposit.  I take it back.  Today we received a personal letter signed by him.  We’ll keep it in our scrap book.

Tuesday, April 28:

Our grocery order from Yummy.com arrives.  Nadine thought she ordered three red potatoes, but what we got were three 2-pound bags of red potatoes. She offers one to Atheana next door, who accepts.  Atheana’s dad in Chicago was an early coronavirus patient but came thru OK.  Atheana then texts back that a friend is bringing her a dozen Sprinkles cupcakes; do we want a couple?  I take chocolate-and-peanut butter, Nadine asks for lemon blueberry. Atheana also gives another one to Jamie next door, and two to Bill and Ellen below her.  Jamie informs us that face masks have arrived from her parents in South Korea, and they include six intended for us; these are really high-class face masks. 

Don’t worry, all this back and forth is done by leaving items outside the door, and ringing the bell; no actual human contact.

Wednesday, April 29:

Today I see an obit for one Harold Reid, of the Statler Brothers.  I have no recollection of them, so I ask my 20th-century pop culture guru (Nadine) if she recognizes the name. She says no. We ask Alexa to play something by the Statler Brothers.  Here’s the first song up on Alexa's list:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bg1di8sGxWc

The only line I remember is the one about "cigarettes and Captain Kangaroo”.

In an earlier email, I mentioned our growing desire for store-bought coffee.  Today we decide to take my 2005 Civic out for a spin, to keep its battery charged.  Before going downstairs, we get on-line to the Starbucks webpage to order coffees for pick up.  Let me just say that the first time is not a quick exercise; data required (not including the coffees per se) include: setting up a user name and password (must include both an upper case letter and a special character), choosing the store location, payment by PayPal.  And in the end I was told that this location did not offer oat milk!!

Auto traffic in our neighborhood is starting to pick up.

That’s It For Now

 

Stay safe, wash your hands, keep your distance, be kind to one another, and call your mother (if possible).

Coleman

From our cousin Phyllis in Berkeley: "Social Separation in the Berkeley Shtetl":

Try this 3-minute YouTube link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gS9iiGJxbWo&feature=youtu.be&fbclid=IwAR3uvVNDh5xgH7OcaQyrx0GEQV0qCfw6-978WaOezU5fqSNC4C0dHTee-pk

PHOTO GALLERY:

Ramadan greetings in the window of neighbors John and Eileen.  (John is a school teacher - see above):

Letters to the editor (see above):

From Nadine: 

"Wanted to share this early-morning Amazon arrival.  So cute.  Waited one month for 10 of these itty-bitty rolls at a total of $25.00.  I’m thinking I should unwind them & put 3 together for one normal one!  That would come to about $8.00 per useable roll!!”

(Normal roll on the right; $2.50 Amazon roll on the left.  But at least we received them, after suspecting that they would never come.)

More neighborhood sidewalk art: